


Arcanus, Come Down

by Stephen_Schitz



Category: Criminal Minds (US TV)
Genre: Bisexual Aaron Hotchner, Canon Compliant, Developing Relationship, Eventual Happy Ending, Eventual Romance, F/M, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, I wrote a background for you basically, Implied/Referenced Sexual Assault, Light Angst, M/M, NOT TRANSGENDER, Reader is Original Character, Reader-Insert, Some characters are not dead, Somewhat, You need a hug, alternate decisions, fictional cases, like seriously, no one knows you're actually a female, some cute romance with Hotch, use of he/him pronouns at first, you are a female posing as a guy, your name is Ross Torres
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-03-06
Updated: 2021-03-06
Packaged: 2021-03-10 06:27:43
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,111
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27588824
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Stephen_Schitz/pseuds/Stephen_Schitz
Summary: Cases come and go.Some are forgotten with the blink of an eye, and some feel like they're tattooed onto your mind, permanently etched into your memory.When a cold case you've been fighting for resolution resurfaces after 20 years of it being closed, you begin to wonder if it should really be solved or forgotten and buried deep down once more. You don't know if your stomach could handle hearing the truth that took so long to hide.
Relationships: Aaron Hotchner/Original Male Character(s), Aaron Hotchner/Reader, Aaron Hotchner/You, David Rossi & Reader, Derek Morgan & Reader, Emily Prentiss & Reader, Jason Gideon & Reader, Jennifer "JJ" Jareau & Reader, Penelope Garcia & Reader, Spencer Reid & Reader, The BAU Team & Reader
Kudos: 2





	Arcanus, Come Down

**Author's Note:**

> Okay, so life got in the way and that got me thinking... maybe not everything has to go according to plan. So b o o m here it goes, I'm just gonna go with the flow. Hope you enjoy.

“Don’t forget your umbrella. I checked the weather earlier today and it said it was going to rain over there.” Your mom’s voice rang through the phone.

You nearly released a string of curses, the box in your hands almost slipped out of your grip, but you managed to bring up your knee before it fell. You repositioned your cell back in between your shoulder and your ear so that you could use both of your hands. The door to your new apartment was left ajar for easy access as you kept unloading boxes from the u-haul.

“My umbrella’s a bright yellow, plus I have it in my bag. I’m not going to forget it.” You chuckle as she lectures you about your forgetfulness.

“I’m surprised you managed to get a job as a consultant with police departments and the FBI with how often you forget to do things.”

You placed the box down on a coffee table that was left inside the apartment by the previous owners. “I’m sorry, who are you again?” You both laugh at your line. “Anyways, I’ll call the two of you later once I’m done with some unpacking. I have some stuff to do at the Quantico office. Yeah, yeah, yeah. Bye mom, love you too.”

A quick look around and you let out a sigh. You had some work to do to make this feel like home. You glance down to take a look at your watch. It was currently 8:45 am and you had to be at the office by 2 pm. You had time. You clap your hands together and decided to start with the kitchen.

-

Aaaaaand you forgot your umbrella. 

It had started raining by evening and it kept pouring since then. The weather forecast had anticipated the downpour earlier that morning, which you had managed to hear before leaving your home. Hell, even your mom told you, yet you somehow forgot your umbrella.

Fan- _fucking_ -tastic. 

So there you were, standing outside the FBI headquarters in Quantico, Virginia. No umbrella. No car. And it was almost 10o’clock. Just your luck. Through your grumbling you didn’t notice a person approach you. The soft tapping on your shoulder pulled you out of your thoughts. 

“Hey, are you alright?” The man’s voice had caught you off guard. It was smooth like whiskey, you thought as you turned to look at him. You recognized him as one of the men in the bullpen, you had been there at the BAU a couple of times helping with consults, but had never seen him there until today. His face was gentle, but tired, probably from today’s busload of work the BAU had to do. You had somehow been lucky enough not to do as much as your assigned team had to do, but that would soon be all over once you officially join the FBI. Speaking of which, you had to speak to someone sometime next week.

The man beside you gave you a quizzical look when you didn’t respond. 

“Oh, sorry. I just realized that I forgot my umbrella at home, and everyone’s either left already or they’re doing overtime, so I can’t catch a ride back home.” You give him a nervous laugh. “I rode my bike over here since my car is still being fixed at the shop. And well, a little rain has never hurt anybody, but…”

You nod your head to the cascade going on in front of the two of you.

He gave a small chuckle, it was so quiet that the rain nearly drowned it out, but you managed to hear it. You could feel your cheeks flare a bit from embarrassment.

“Do you live around here? I don’t mind giving you a ride home.” He stops himself before he could continue further. “I’m sorry. Where are my manners?”

“Aaron Hotchner, I’m a part of the BAU.” He introduced himself as he offers you his hand.

“Ross. Ross Torres. I’ve just been transferred to the brach here in Quantico.” You say as you shake his hand.

You feel him stop half shake and see that he’s knit his eyebrows closer together.

“Wait. Ross Torres? _The_ Ross Torres?”

“Woah- _The_? I didn’t think there’s that many Ross Torres’ running around Virginia. If there are you should watch out.”

You managed to get another chuckle out of him. Somehow you feel like he isn’t the type to laugh a lot, but he looks so much more relaxed when he does. You stop your thoughts as they start, fearing that you might develop something more.

“I’ve heard quite the deal from agents in other teams about your work. I try not to indulge in their talk, thought it was best to see you in person and judge for myself, but I never did get the chance to work with you.”

“Well, I’m flattered that you would like to work with the odds of me.” You say as you place a hand to your chest. “And who knows, you might see more of me soon.”

A strong gust of wind pushes itself through the two of you. You shiver a bit, thankfully the sweater you wore was thick enough to stop some of the cold going through, but you were never really ready for east coast weather. Hotchner seems to notice that and he suggests that the two of you should make way to his car. You ask him which one is his. It’s not like there’s that many in the parking lot, but you didn’t want to awkwardly walk to the wrong one. He points to a car farther away from where the two of you stood.

An idea pops into your head. You think for a split second and before you know it the words come tumbling out of your mouth. “Race you!”

“Wha-“

You had taken off your coat and pulled it above your head, you motion for him to do the same before you bolted through the rain towards his car. “Last one there is soggy egg.”

You turn for a split second to see if he’s still standing beneath the roof of the building. He’s looking down at his briefcase when you call to him again. “I dunno about you, but Aaron Hotchner the soggy egg has a nice ring to it.”

He looks up to you and you see something flash across his face, its not something that seems to belong, but it was a fun emotion to see painted among stoic looking people; mischief. Seems like the taunting worked, and before you know it he’s barreling towards you. You weren’t sure what you were expecting, but shit he’s fast!

You turn around and continue your trek to the car, trying your best not to slip on the wet pavement.

-

Inside the car, you’re seated in the passenger’s seat trying to catch your breath. You couldn’t believe it, you lost. You’re looking at the ceiling of the car when you hear Hotchner beside you.

“I dunno about you, but Ross Torres the soggy egg has a nice ring to it.” He says mockingly.

You’re still trying to catch your breath. “You- you cheated!” You heaved.

“I did no such thing.”

Your head swivels to look at him as you squint. “You only unlocked _your_ door when I got to the car. You gave yourself extra time!”

He hides a snicker behind his hand. “Like I said, I did no such thing.”

“If I get sick you’ll have to pay for my sick leave. It’s coming straight out of your wallet.” You grumble.

That’s not the only thing that grumbles. As he continued to drive down the road, you felt your empty stomach cry out in hunger. The last time you ate anything was probably around 4pm before you dove into the case your team was assigned. You didn’t want to work at home since you hadn’t unpacked much, so you decided it would be best to finish it at the office. Thing was, you became too focused on your work that lunch slipped by and before you knew it, it was already 9pm. Plus, someone apparently doesn’t know how to read and ate your food that clearly said ‘Ross Torres.’

You place your hand on your stomach and look out the window. You felt the tips of your ears redden just a bit, and tried to play it off. Since Hotchner hadn’t said anything, you just left it at that, but then… another stomach growl. This time you notice that it hadn’t come from you. You refrain from bursting out in laughter as you see the man beside you focus more intently on the road.

“There’s this really good taco truck close to where I live. They whip up the best, most authentic tacos in DC.” You say, breaking the silence. “I mean, if it’s not too much trouble, my treat.”

You were already anticipating a rejection. It was probably hasty to ask since he only offered you a ride home, but hey they’re tacos.

“It’s late and it’s raining.” He gives pause for a second. “Are they really open at this time?”

You scoff. “Nothing stops Mexicans from working, especially if it’s a taqueria- they’re open through anything.”

Hotchner seems to think for a bit before he nudges the gps towards you. You pluck the device from out of his hand and re-enter the address of the taco spot. You gleefully put it back in its holder and turn to look out the window, a soft smile on your face.

-

As the two of you sit inside his car, you find yourself telling a story about the time you had tried out for a role in a school production, you had to do this terrible French accent and you never fully regretted it. You get him to laugh for a third time that night, however this last laugh, he was more let loose and open. It was a hearty laugh, not like the chuckles you managed to get out of him earlier.

The car filled with laughter. The music playing through the radio was quiet enough to let the two of you talk. With enough focus you could make out the tune or a lyric, but who wanted to do that when you could hear his laugh instead?

-

“You know, I’m surprised that you agreed to getting tacos with me. I could’ve been a serial killer for all you know.”

“More like a taco killer, I am disgustedly intrigued at how you managed to even eat so many.” He told you as he pulled up to your front gate. You rummaged through your back pack and pulled out a set of keys.

“That’s because I need to maintain my body at its peak performance. I need my tacos.” You stop to think for a second. “God, I sounded like such a douche.”

Hotchner shook his head. It was dark out, but you could tell that he was rolling his eyes.

“I have a feeling that you would get along with a coworker of mine. His name’s Derek Morgan.”

“It seems like I might have to scout him out next time I swing by the office.”

You weren’t supposed to start until next week really, but your current team sought you out for insight on their case. You weren’t sure if you were even supposed to be there really, but it seems like you were given access and had your information in the database. You brought up your concern to Hotchner while the two of you ate your tacos earlier, and he said he would pass your concerns over to the chief.

“Well, this is where I take my leave. Thank you for the ride, Agent Hotchner.” You say as you step out of the car.

“No worries. Just glad I was able to help.” He seems to think for a second, and just before you could close the door he blurts out, “And hey, call me Hotch.”

You managed to hear that before slamming the door shut. You wave through the window and give him a thumbs up before running inside towards your house. It was still pouring and you did not want to stay underneath the rain much longer. As you made your way up the stairs you could feel yourself slip and had to quickly balance yourself before you ate shit in front of your coworker.

Inside your home was warm and cozy. Nearly making you melt after stepping inside and having already begun to take off the wet clothing that had stuck onto your skin when suddenly you remembered.

Shit my bike!


End file.
